Love is All
by Crystal7
Summary: Story to Bradley's book The Firebrand! Synopsis: Helen refelcts on her life, the war, and why the Goddess of Love chose her for this desinty.


_Synopsis_: Helen reflects on her life, the war, and why the Goddess of Love chose her for Paris.

_Author's Note_: This is a fan fiction to Marion Zimmer Bradley's novel _The Firebrand._

_Author's Note(2): _This is a one-shot piece. I have no plans to "flesh out" or expand this. Thank you for reading.

**Love is All**

Why me? The words rang through Helen's mind as she watched the Akaians prepare for another day's battle. Day after day she watched the war from behind the safety of Troy's city walls. Day after day she watched Paris, her husband, fight for his right to have her. Day after day she had to fight for her own right to be here.

A right she did not have. She clenched her fists together as she leaned over the wall to watch Paris run headlong into all the action. She knew that she was not the reason for the war. She knew that she was just the excuse. Agamemnon had been itching for war with Troy for nearly two decades. She was his excuse.

Her thoughts drifted to the darkness that was Agamemnon himself. Agamemnon was her first husband's brother and her sister's husband. She had chosen Menelaus as her husband as a favor to her sister Klytemnestra. She wished now she never had. She had never loved Menelaus, nor did she love Paris.

It was only through the will of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, that she came to love Paris. It was only when the goddess inhabited her body that she loved Paris. Paris was handsome in his own right, but he was only a man, just as she was only a woman. She was beautiful, yes, but her beauty was only extraordinary when the goddess inhabited her.

The goddess. Helen's thoughts turned bitter. Why did she do this? Why did she decide that Helen was to love Paris and Paris to love her? Paris had had a wife before Helen. He had been married to a priestess and Helen was sorry for the harm she had caused the young girl, she truly was.

Helen unclenched her fists and placed them on top of the wall. She said nothing to Kassandra as she approached and Kassandra said nothing to her. Kassandra, her sister through Paris, was the kindest friend Helen had ever had. The only friend Helen had only ever had.

Women hated her for her beauty and men were only filled with lust for her. No one cared about who she was on the inside, just that she was touched by the hand of Aphrodite and that was enough for any of them. She wondered if Kassandra was right about them being pawns. They were the playthings of the gods and goddesses and no matter what they chose to do their lives were preordained.

The midday sun was soon being to heat Helen's body and she felt slightly weak. She hadn't had a decent meal in weeks and with the war she was almost too emotionally exhausted to eat anyway.

She heard Kassandra whispered something to her mother, Queen Hecuba, but Helen couldn't make it out. She swayed on her feet and was grateful when no one rushed to her aid. She gripped the side of the wall to steady herself. She would last the day, at least. She knew, like so many others, that there would be another one like it tomorrow, and the day after that, and day of that. It was never ending.

When would the war end, she wondered. Would she live out the rest of her days with Paris or with Menelaus? She knew that if Troy lost this war she would be returned to Sparta. As happy as she had been to leave that life behind, she missed her daughter, Hermione. She knew Menelaus would never harm the child so she had left her there.

She had, however, taken her son, Nikos, with her. She had hoped that Paris would be a better father to him that Menelaus. Paris, sadly, was no better. They both had the same distributing thoughts about how a boy should be raised. Torn away from his mother and simply thrust into the battle camps of the men.

She heard Kassandra mention something to her mother about Apollo, the sun god. She next heard Hecuba her daughter. Helen felt a slight frown form on her face. Hecuba was always hushing Kassandra to reaming quiet. No one ever wanted to head her warnings, even when she was always right. Helen, knew, that she was no better. Why didn't she ever listen to Kassandra? Kassandra was always correct after all.

It was rumored that the gods had cursed her, thus brining Helen's thoughts back to the gods. She closed her eyes and let the wind caress her body. She took in the smell of the sea and the noise of the battle. She longed to hear a bird's morning song. That was something she had not heard in such a long time.

The gods have chased them all away. All the wonderful things in the world are gone, Helen thought bitterly. A small voice argued inside her mind, _not all the wonderful things. You still have Paris._

Helen wondered again why she was the chosen one. Why was she forced into the game of the gods? Why was Kassandra cursed to know all their future, but to never be heard? Why was Paris's first wife, Oenone, was cursed to forever love Paris and never to have him? Why was Helen so in love with Paris one moment and cursing him silently in the next? Why were they all helpless pawns in the gods' lust for amusement?

Helen watched as the sky slowly darkened. It would rain soon. It hadn't rained in so long that the dreary whether would be a blessing. She picked up her cloak from the ground and wrapped it around her shoulders. Casting a brief look over at Menelaus's tent, she slowly turned around and headed back for the palace.

The men would be back soon and Paris would need care. As always, after a day's battle, Paris would want her to warm his bed. It was times like that, that Helen felt like she was no more than his concubine.

THE END


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